


Withdrawal Symptoms

by enigmaticblue



Series: A Series of Unfortunate Events [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Protective Bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce isn’t sure when he became the team mom, but that’s apparently what he is now. He minds less than you’d think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Withdrawal Symptoms

**Author's Note:**

> Some spoilers for Thor 2. Written for the hc_bingo prompt “substance addiction.” Some spoilers for Thor 2, although no major plot points. The important thing to note is that if you’re on some kind of psychiatric medication, you shouldn’t stop cold turkey.

“You remember Eric Selvig, right?” Tony asks out of the blue over coffee.

 

Bruce glances up from the article he’s reading on potential uses for an Einstein-Rosen bridge. “Sure. Why?”

 

Tony flicks something on his own Stark Pad, and it bounces to the television monitor across the room.

 

Bruce feels his eyebrows go up when he sees the footage of Selvig running around Stonehenge without any clothing. “What’s he yelling about?”

 

“Something about gravity,” Tony replies. “And convergence. I think. It’s not like there are subtitles here.”

 

Bruce grimaces sympathetically. The ringing in Tony’s ears may have mostly subsided, but his hearing is still not quite what it was. “I can’t make it out either, if it makes you feel any better.”

 

“What can’t you make out?” Pepper asks, striding into the room.

 

“Dr. Selvig seems to be having some trouble,” Bruce replies diplomatically. “We were trying to figure out what he was saying.”

 

Pepper frowns at the figure on the screen. “Do you know him?”

 

“He was the scientist Loki used to open up the hole in space,” Tony supplies, pulling Pepper in for a kiss.

 

Bruce frowns. “I’d heard he was doing better. I wonder why—” He stops. “Has anyone talked to Clint lately?”

 

“We’ve been a little busy,” Tony replies with a leer, causing both Bruce and Pepper to roll their eyes in unison. “But no. Should we have? I thought he was going back in the field. He was excited enough about passing his evaluation.”

 

Bruce is still staring at the screen, although the news has moved passed Selvig, and onto other things. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s just as busy as we have been.”

 

“Why don’t you check on him if you’re worried?” Pepper suggests.

 

“I’ll give him a call,” Bruce agrees absently, and then turns his attention fully to Pepper. “You’re heading to Los Angeles, right?”

 

Pepper nods. “I have to make an appearance at the board retreat at least. I’ll be back in a few days. _Try_ to keep Tony out of trouble for that long.”

 

Tony makes a squawk of protest. “I heard that.”

 

“I’m glad,” she replies with a quick, mischievous grin, and then leans down to steal a kiss from Bruce. “I’ll see you both in a few days.”

 

Tony pouts as she strides out of the Penthouse. “You know, I think she likes you better.”

 

“I think that’s only because she hasn’t known me that long,” Bruce teases. “And she hasn’t met the Other Guy yet.”

 

Tony snorts. “Knowing Pepper, she’ll have the Hulk wrapped around her finger in no time. Did you know she’s meeting Natasha and Agent May for drinks while she’s in L.A.? I feel like I should be worried. Are you worried?”

 

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “Worried about three ultra-competent women getting together for drinks? Not especially.”

 

“They could be plotting to take over the world,” Tony points out, although he doesn’t sound all that concerned.

 

Bruce shrugs. “The world would probably be a better place.”

 

“True.” Tony’s fingers fly over his keyboard. “For the record, Clint is _not_ out in the field.”

 

Bruce stares at him. “Did you just hack SHIELD?”

 

“I never unhacked SHIELD,” Tony replies absently. “Wait, is that a word? Because if it isn’t, it should be.”

 

Bruce shakes his head, although he’s amused both by Tony’s actions and his abuse of the English language. “It’s not a word, but never mind that. Do you know where he is?”

 

“He asked for a leave of absence,” Tony replies. “But it sounds like he was just going to stay at home. At least, I don’t see a record of him traveling anywhere. You want his address?”

 

Bruce hesitates. “Maybe I should just call him.”

 

“You could do that, too,” Tony agrees. “But sometimes you get more out of someone if you just show up.”

 

Bruce runs a hand over his face. “You think I’m going to have to get something out of him?”

 

“I think you’re worried, and you should go check up on him, if only to put your mind at ease,” Tony replies. “But I’m sure he’s fine. Clint’s tough.”

 

There’s no question of that in Bruce’s mind, but he can’t shake the worry, because Loki had possessed both Clint and Selvig, and Bruce knows Selvig has published since then. As far as Bruce knows, Selvig had been doing better, at least until recently.

 

“Toughness doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Bruce replies ruefully.

 

Tony’s expression softens. “You want me to go with you?”

 

“I think it might be easier if it’s just me,” Bruce says. “He might open up a little more.”

 

“Call if you need me,” Tony replies, and then leans in for a kiss.

 

And Bruce can’t help but be distracted, at least for a little while.

 

~~~~~

 

Clint’s apartment is located in Bed-Stuy, in a building that looks a little rundown, but has a lot of character. Bruce buzzes his apartment, but doesn’t get a response.

 

He’s torn between leaving and calling Clint later, and actually finding a way inside so he can knock on Clint’s door, just on the off chance Clint’s there and ignoring him.

 

Bruce can’t say why he feels the need to check in on Clint, but they’d bonded in Colorado, and he feels a certain responsibility for him.

 

A woman exits the building, and she hesitates when she sees Bruce. “Are you looking for someone?”

 

“You haven’t seen Clint Barton recently, have you?” Bruce asks. “I’m a friend. I just wanted to check in on him.”

 

Recognition dawns. “Oh! You’re Dr. Banner.”

 

Bruce probably isn’t going to ever get used to being recognized, and it still sends a frisson of fear through him every time it happens. He’s still not used to not running. “I am,” he admits.

 

“Well, I haven’t seen Clint in a couple of days,” she admits. “I heard banging coming from his place earlier today, though. I thought maybe he was finally getting around to hanging stuff on his walls.”

 

“I’m sure that’s it,” Bruce agrees.

 

She steps aside for him. “It’s good that he has a friend to check up on him, though.”

 

Bruce offers a smile in thanks and heads up the stairs. The interior of the building has that same slightly battered appearance as the outside, but Bruce can see marks of it being cared for, and it’s homey.

 

Really, a place like this would be far more to Bruce’s taste than the ultra-modern Penthouse at Stark Tower if his favorite people weren’t there.

 

Bruce raps on Clint’s door briskly and somehow isn’t surprised when no one answers. “Clint, it’s Bruce,” he calls. “I just came by to check on you.”

 

There’s still no answer, but Bruce can hear someone moving around inside, and he knocks again. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay!” he calls. “I can stand here all day.”

 

Another minute passes, and Bruce is beginning to wonder if he should find the super to let him in, when the door swings open.

 

“You look like shit,” Bruce says bluntly.

 

Clint has dark circles under his eyes, all the more obvious against his pale, clammy skin. His lips are cracked, and Bruce can see that he’s shivering.

 

“I’m fine,” Clint insists.

 

“Tell that to the mirror,” Bruce replies, and waits for Clint to let him in, which he eventually does. “What happened?”

 

Clint shakes his head. “Nothing. I don’t know. I think I might have the flu.”

 

“Sit down before you fall down,” Bruce says, gently prodding Clint towards the battered couch that takes up most of his living room. “How long has this been going on?”

 

Clint shakes his head. “I don’t know. A couple of days. I thought—” He stops.

 

“What did you think?” Bruce asks. “Are there any other symptoms?”

 

Clint rubs his eyes, and Bruce can see the shudder run through him. “I think you should go, doc.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re okay,” Bruce says firmly.

 

There’s a long pause, and Clint says, “You have to swear you won’t say anything to anybody.”

 

Bruce isn’t sure he can make that promise, so he says, “As long as your life isn’t in danger, I promise.”

 

“I don’t know,” Clint says, sounding absolutely miserable. “It was like—I kept hearing things, seeing things. It was just as bad as it was right after Natasha got Loki out of my head.”

 

“You passed your psych eval,” Bruce replies, puzzled.

 

“It was right after that,” Clint replies. “I didn’t want to say anything, because I thought I could tough it out. I just needed a few days to get off the meds.”

 

Bruce suddenly has a very clear picture of what had happened. “Did you just stop your medications, or did you titrate, Clint?”

 

“Tie-what?” Clint asks, staring dully at Bruce.

 

Bruce sighs. “Do you still have the prescription bottles?”

 

Clint flushes. “I tossed them out, but they might still be in the trash. I haven’t taken it out for a few days.”

 

“Go take a shower,” Bruce instructs. “I’ll keep an ear out for you, okay?”

 

“I can’t go back on them!” Clint protests, sounding panicky. “I’m so close to going back in the field, Bruce.”

 

Bruce sighs. “And you will, but there’s a right way to do things and this definitely isn’t it. Didn’t the doctors at SHIELD tell you this?”

 

“Maybe.” Clint looks a little shifty. “I kind of tuned them out after they said I’d be mission ready as soon as I got off them.”

 

Bruce waves him off. “Go get cleaned up. We’ll talk after.”

 

The trash is rank and definitely needs to be taken out, and Bruce tries not to breathe through his nose as he roots around for the pill bottles. As soon as he finds them, he sends a text directly to Jarvis, asking for as much information as possible on withdrawal symptoms, with an addendum to keep it quiet.

 

Tony definitely doesn’t need to know about this; no one does. Clint wouldn’t thank Bruce for spilling his secrets.

 

Bruce takes out the trash and starts cleaning up the kitchen, washing the dirty dishes piled in the sink and checking the fridge and pantry for food.

 

There isn’t much, and Bruce decides that he’ll either need to drag Clint back to the Tower or go shopping. At least there are a couple of cans of Campbell’s, which will do in a pinch.

 

His phone buzzes when the email from Jarvis comes through, and Bruce grimaces as he looks at the long list of symptoms from going off the medications cold turkey. Hypnotics and anti-psychotics are nothing to take lightly.

 

Then again, Clint hasn’t died or gone into convulsions yet, so he’ll probably survive, even if he’s really miserable for a while. And, at the moment, Bruce thinks it’s probably not a good idea to put Clint _back_ on them without a doctor’s supervision.

 

A _real_ medical doctor, which Bruce is not.

 

He’s heating up the soup when Clint wanders back out, swathed in sweatpants and an oversized purple hoodie. “So, what’s the verdict, doc? Am I going to die?”

 

“Probably not, but you’re going to feel like it for a while.” Bruce stirs the soup. “Feel any better?”

 

“Mostly, I feel like an idiot,” Clint admits. “And maybe like I’m going crazy.”

 

Bruce doesn’t know what to say to that, so he lets it go. “Are you hungry?”

 

“Maybe a little,” Clint admits. “I haven’t been eating much.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I’ve gone off pain killers before. I didn’t think this would be any different.”

 

Bruce gives him a sharp look. “Addiction is a physical dependency. Your body gets used to it, and stopping suddenly is a bad idea.”

 

“I’m not addicted!” Clint protests.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” Bruce replies, pouring the soup into a clean bowl. “I’m guessing you aren’t going to be on board with seeing a doctor.”

 

“And risk not being able to go back in the field—ever?” Clint protests.

 

Bruce nods. “Okay, then, we’ll give it until your leave is up. If you’re still feeling rough, you’re going to see a doctor. It doesn’t have to be one of SHIELD’s.”

 

Clint hesitates. “Deal.”

 

“Now, you have two choices,” Bruce says. “I can call Tony to let him know I’m staying here for the time being to keep an eye on you, or you can come back to the Tower with me.”

 

Clint frowns. “I don’t want him to know.”

 

“I’ll tell him you have the flu.”

 

“You think he’s going to buy it?” Clint asks dubiously.

 

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “Given how bad you look? I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

 

Clint sighs. “The Tower. If I keep you away from your boyfriend—and girlfriend—they aren’t going to be happy with me.”

 

Bruce smiles. “I’ll call Tony and let him know you’re coming.”

 

“Bruce—” Clint begins. “I owe you twice over now.”

 

Bruce shakes his head, feeling like he owes Clint something. “I don’t have so many friends that I’d risk losing one, so let’s not start keeping score.”

 

“Yeah, same here,” Clint admits. “Thanks.”

 

Bruce patted Clint on the shoulder. “Don’t mention it.”

 

Bruce had been alone a long time, and he feels a certain responsibility towards the rest of his team. They were his friends, and it had been a long time since he had any.

 

He’s going to hang onto them.


End file.
